Alternative
by Bear
Summary: A short PWP SLASH ficlet involving Draco and *someone else* Note: NOT for the squeamish or easily squicked! You have been warned :D


Draco Malfoy thrashed around in his bed. How long he had been lying there waiting for sleep to consume him, he didn't know. With an exasperated sigh, Draco climbed out of bed, and put on some slippers and his robe. _Maybe a midnight stroll will clear my mind_. He stealthily slunk out of the dorm, through the common room, and out into the freezing dungeon hall.

After an hour or so, Draco leaned against a wall to rest. It failed to amuse him that even after living at Hogwarts for seven years, he could still get lost this easily. _That staircase I took must've moved_. He decided to keep wandering around... if he was lucky, he'd find a passageway that led back to the dungeons.

Four left turns and one middle fork later, and Draco was starting to get pissed. _Dammit... where the *hell* is my common room?!?!_ Draco was even starting to hope to run into Filch, a sure sign of how desperate his situation was, when he heard a muted giggle behind him.

Draco spun on his heel, haughtily tossing his hair in the way only a Malfoy could. There, in bunny footy pajamas, holding a candle and laughing with merriment, was none other than Albus Dumbledore.

"Professor Dumbledore," Draco began, knowing there wasn't any possibility he'd be able to explain his was out of this. "I was... uh... you see..."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "My my, isn't it an odd occurrence to see you, Draco Malfoy, for once at a loss for words?" Draco's pale face pinked slightly. "Well Mr. Malfoy, I assume you are waiting to hear your punishment. However, since I am in such a good mood, I am willing to make you a deal. I will not punish you," his eyes twinkled ever more, "if you let me fuck you."

Draco was dumbstruck. If paparazzi had been around to catch a picture of his slack-jawed expression, complete with bugged-out eyes, the Malfoy family reputation would be ruined, instantly. "Excuse—excuse me sir, I don't think I heard you correctly... You want... _what_??"

Another giggle. "My dear boy, you must know I'm not married. I get so... lonely, up in my quarters all by myself, night after night. You recall last time I caught you out of bed, I told you any more midnight wanderings would lead to your expulsion? It would be such a shame, really, to be expelled in your very last year... For goodness sakes, can you imagine what that would do to your family's reputation? Well, I just thought this," he gestured downward, where, to Draco's utter horror, a bulge was forming underneath the bunny print fabric, "would be a more desirable alternative. It's your call, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco was now doing a very unflattering fish impersonation. He knew that being expelled was unthinkable; his father would at the very best beat him senseless, and at the worst disown him. Lucius Malfoy was not known for his mercy. He really had no choice but do what Dumbledore wanted. Resignedly, Draco mumbled something incoherent.

"What was that?" Dumbledore's eye were bright with delight. He seemed to be enjoying watching Draco squirm.

"I said, 'I can't be expelled.'" Draco's eyes were glued on his feet.

"Then follow me." Dumbledore took out his wand and spoke the words _Transportia Chamberus_. Fine golden lines, like spun thread, flew out of his wand into the outline of a door. After shimmering for a second, the lines filled with wood and there appeared a solid door, right in the middle of the hall. Dumbledore opened it and through it Draco could see a gigantic, beautifully furnished bedroom, and there against the far wall, a cavernous, velvet covered bed. Draco gulped. 

"Well? What are you waiting for? Come in," he stepped through the door and waved Draco through.

Once Draco had entered the room, he heard a pop behind him. Draco turned around to face the other side of the headmaster's room, and no floating wooden door to be seen. _There's no turning back now_.

"...No kissing, no tender words, just pure, wild, unadulterated sex. Understand?"

Draco nodded silently, and followed Dumbledore to the bed. The man pulled back the covers, then turned to Draco. "Strip."

Slowly, the boy manipulated the fastenings of his robe and let it slide to a heap on the ground. With fingers that trembled, he pulled his black silk shirt over his head, careful not to muss up his perfect silver tresses. Here, Draco paused. _Gods, what am I doing? _but the threat of his father's wrath kept his hands moving, and in no time he was standing, naked, amongst the small heap of expensive clothes, eyes lowered.

Without warning, Dumbledore, who had also removed his clothes, pushed him on the bed with the agility of a cat and forced him on his hands and knees. Draco barely had time to marvel at the fact that a man _that old_ could move with such speed, when something started to nudge against Draco's taut ring of muscle... _here we go..._

* * * * * * * *

Draco felt his body spiraling toward ecstasy... the combination of the old man's thrusts and his hand pumping Draco's erection was too much... Draco was about to be pushed violently into the throes of absolute pleasure; but instead of the familiar overload of sensation, Draco felt as if his mind and body were separating; everything started spiraling around and around in a whirlwind of white hair, tan skin and maroon velvet sheets... and with a violent jerk and a sound of shattering glass, Draco's eyes snapped open—to reveal his room, at Malfoy Manor: Draco was in his bed, covered in a thin sheen of cold sweat and another sticky substance... _Oh great, now I'll have to get the house elves to wash my sheets again... this is the third time this week..._

~fin~

A/N: This fic spawned from a particularly aggressive plot bunny that wouldn't take 'no' for an answer, so here it is... the intent of this pairing was to either make people laugh, vomit, or laugh while vomiting. I don't usually write minor/non minor, but this idea was too hilariously disturbing to waste. Please read/review it! Thanks! 


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